Of Beau's and Etiquette
by Keketra
Summary: Brothers are still brothers, no matter how the outside world may view them.
1. Prologue: A Brewing Storm

**Of Beau's and Etiquette **

**Disclaimer: **The Pevensies, Narnia, and all therein belong to CS Lewis. I promise to give everything back once I'm through!

**Summery: **Brothers will always be brothers, no matter how the outside world may view them.

{I}{I}{I}{I}{I}

"Edmund, NO!"

The panic in our youngest sister's voice was unmistakable, and I glanced briefly over at Susan, before rushing through to the kitchen, where said sister, our younger brother, and Susan's' beau were supposed to be talking. Upon entering, though, I felt my heart briefly freeze in my chest, and the world go blank. There had been a steadying increase in tension throughout the night, but I had never expected it to result in this...

Edmund, Narnia's finest diplomat, able to reason his way through almost anything, had managed to back Susan's beau into a corner, and had his fist raised, ready to punch him, looking more murderous than I had ever seen him. The dark haired boy in his grasp looked between startled and terrified, and I could not blame him. My brother's anger was a force to be reckoned with - especially as it took quite a bit for it to rile. For something like this though... I shook my head, pushing the thoughts away, at least for now. I stepped forward, but Susan held onto my arm; almost as though she thought Edmund might harm _me_ if I stepped too close. "Ed..." I began, but my voice filtered out. I had no ideas to what I should say, all I could do was stare hopelessly at my brother, my best friend.

"Peter, _do something!"_ Susan's despairing hiss sounded in my ear, and I glanced over at her. She was as pale as as moonlight, and looked as though she might faint. I wanted to assure her that Edmund would never actually hurt her beau, but the words stuck in my throat as I looked back at our brother. In that moment, he certainly _looked _like he would cause him harm. I took a deep breath, shrugged off my sister, and stepped forward.

"Edmund, let him go. Please, whatever he has done, it does not warrant this." Edmund swallowed, and I saw his free hand shake a little. He began to release his grasp on the boy, then shook his head, holding on more firmly, causing the other boy to gasp quietly.

"No Peter. I'm sorry, but I can't let this go. You don't know what he said. You don't..." My brother swallowed, and shook his head. "I can't just let that pass!"

"Ed, whatever blow he has dealt you, it is not worth your going to jail!"

"He called you mentally unstable!" The explosion from Edmund's lips startled us all, including him, and I saw the hand shake once more. _Oh, Edmund..._ I should have known. By the Lion, I should have known that the only thing that could make Edmund behave thus was a slight to me. My brother was undyingly loyal to Lucy and I. He had once been thus to Susan, too, but she of late had rather proved undeserving. I still had no doubt he would have defended her if the cause came.

"Ed, let him go." I stepped forward, slowly, until I was a mere few inches from the two. Edmund's gaze met mine, and I saw the raw fury within, almost shuddering at the look. Hesitantly, I reached forward, and gently grasped my brother's shoulder. Edmund flinched, and let out a long breath. "Stand down, brother." I repeated, and something in my voice finally, _finally_, seemed to register, as the fist lowered, and the brunette released the man in his grasp, looking not at all repentant.

"By God, you're _both_ insane."

I laughed, humourlessly. "Is it insanity to protect your brother's honour?"

"I'd thank you to leave my brothers alone," Lucy's voice sounded, and as I turned to look at her, I almost smiled at this glimpse of the Valiant Queen. Dearest Lucy - she would have honestly done anything for any of us, and it was times like this when I truly realised the strength of her devotion. I wrapped my arms around Edmund, feeling him stiffen in my touch but ignoring it, simply pulling him closer.

Edmund's eyes were still on Susan's beau, and I had no doubts that if I were not holding him, he would have flown at the man again. The beau raised an eyebrow at me, then at Edmund, then at me again, as though challenging us, before he seemed to smirk, apparently uncaring as to the danger he had been in mere moments. "So it's true what they say about you two." I raised an eyebrow, one hand moving to Edmund's shoulder, the other holding him tight about the waist, in case he attempted to attack the boy again. I certainly would not have put it past him.

"And what, dear friend, do _they_ say about _us_?" Edmund's voice was dripping in its sarcasm.

"Patrick, no. Not now, _please_." Susan's voice sounded from the corner, and I glanced over at her, having almost forgotten she was there to begin with. Her beau laughed humourlessly, and turned to her.

"Now Susie, I've heard it's best to tell people news in person, it's just polite and good manners," he paused, glancing at my brother and I with unconcealed disgust. "Not that these two have much of either."

"If you have something to say," I said tightly. "Then speak, and be done with it."

"You really haven't heard the rumours?" Patrick chuckled, far too pleased with himself. "Oh, Susie, haven't you told them yet?"

"I told you before, they're _not true_!" Susan's voice trembled, and she swallowed, shaking her head. "Patrick, please, you've done enough damage. Let this end now."

"No, I really think they should know." The boy's voice was low, venomous, savouring his moment of revelation. "Especially after what _I've _just witnessed."

"Speak then, or are you just a child who likes to taunt?" Edmund lashed out - though thankfully with words more than actions. I held onto him tighter, and he placed a hand upon mine. This seemed to only infuriate our guest more, and he turned pink about the ears.

"For starters, they are saying that _you_," he waved in my general direction. "Are mentally unsound and need professional help, perhaps even to be sent away." I rolled my eyes; I heard such rumours before, and though I did not like them, I knew my own mind. I had hoped to spare my siblings such rumours though. "And _him..." _he jerked his head toward Edmund. "Ever heard of incest, Pevensie?"

Before I knew it, Edmund had somehow wriggled from my grasp and was bolting toward Patrick, his fist raised. I shouted out, in blind panic - the least we needed was for our brother to end up in jail trying to protect me. "Edmund, no!" My brother stopped, mere seconds from Patrick, hesitating briefly. Before he could turn toward me, though Susans' beau stepped forward, and smartly punched my brother in the nose, twice. Edmund reeled away, as I stepped forward, taking my brother into my arms once again, glaring at the boy. "I suggest, sir, that you leave." I stated flatly. Patrick raised an eyebrow at me, shaking out his fist from where he'd hit Edmund. There was a faint smear of blood across two knuckles, and my stomach turned as I realised whose blood that was. I swallowed, holding onto my resolve not to make this man pay for what he'd done, and instead turned my attention to my brother. "Susan, get Patrick out ofhere. He's no longer welcome in this house." I stated firmly.

"Oh, but Peter, I'm sure -" I turned my head, summoning every measure of coolness I could, and Susan seemed to shrink a little under my gaze.

"_Now_, Susan." She nodded wordlessly, tugging her beau from the room. I let out a slow breath, shaking my head. Turning to the brunette in my arms, I wordlessly led him through to the livingroom, sitting him down and pulling him closer. "You flaming idiot," I mumbled, shaking my head.

"You're welcome," mumbled my brother, in return, his voice a little thicker than it should be.

"Ed?" He shook his head and simply buried into me further. I sighed softly, nudging him gently. "Come on now, Ed... Talk to me? Let me know what's going on in that brain of yours."

Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, though was probably only a few minutes, my brother's head rose, and he gazed at me, his nose still red from the punch, looking suddenly so much younger than he had not an hour ago. "I just..." he swallowed, painfully. "I don't understand."

"Understand what, Ed?" I asked softly, holding him close.

"We're not... _Like that_. We're just... _Close_. Isn't that how siblings are supposed to be?"

"I've only you three to speak for," I admitted, hugging him closer still, surprised when he didn't protest - usually, Edmund was the first to deny such actions of affection. "you have to remember, though, most siblings haven't been through wardrobes, and haven't ruled a Kingdom for fifteen years."

"Even so... Surely there must be other siblings out there as close as we are to each other." He stated, ever stubborn.

"I suppose their must be," I conceeded softly. "But you've seen how repressed England is compared to Narnia, Ed. I suppose we're too much Narnian and not enough English to be mindful of etiquette."

"Blow etiquette," I chuckled softly at the heartfelt words.

"Exactly my point," I agreed.

Edmund swallowed, taking a breath and sitting up properly, meeting my eyes. "Well, no matter what they say, you're _my _brother, and I love you. Hell be damned to etiquette!"

A soft laugh escaped my lips, and I gently ruffled his hair, grinning. "The same, tenfold."

"I'm glad to hear it," There was a a slight snuffling, and once again Edmund was burying into me, to seek comfort or warmth. I pulled him close, hearing the soft yawn he gave.

"Sleep."

"But Susan..." he barely protested; in fact, turning further into my embrace.

"I'll deal with her later," I promised, firmly, feeling Edmund smile against my shoulder.

"I'm sure you will, brother." He murmured, before gently resting his head into my lap, curling up on the sofa, halfway toward sleep already.

"Sleep, brother mine," I whispered, even as Edmund fell asleep, leaning down to press a kiss against brunette locks that were beginning to grow too long. I smiled a little at his sleeping form, as a wash of love coursed through my very being, and I wondered how anyone could think so little of such a strong bond between brothers. Edmund and I, ever since his encounter with the Witch all those years ago, had been each other's strength, fortitude, and pillar. I would have protected him with my life, and I knew he shared the sentiment.

How indeed, could anyone deny us this right, brothers that we were? With a sigh, I cast the thoughts to the wind for now, and instead settled to simply enjoy this rare moment with my brother.

_Finis._

**Author's N: **As always, dear readers, comments and criticisms are very much welcomed._  
_


	2. Chapter One: A Lack of Propriety

**Of Beau's and Etiquette**

**Disclaimer: **The Pevensies, Narnia, and all therein belong to CS Lewis. I promise to give everything back once I'm through.

**Summery: **Brothers will always be brothers, no matter how the outside world may view them.

**Author's N: **This piece was never meant to last longer than one chapter, but somehow it seemed to need a more complete ending. This may very well turn out to be a multi-chaptered fiction.

{I}{I}{I}{I}

We could tell something was wrong from the moment we walked through the door. Father's suitcase was next to the door, despite him not being due home for another two days, and the smell of peppermint was floating through the air. Edmund and I glanced at each other, warily, before I shrugged, resting a gentle hand on my brother's shoulder for a moment before we moved through to the livingroom, where, sure enough, we found our father, staring at the latest newspaper, a frown on his features. I glanced over at our mother, who was cradling a cup of tea in her hands, and bit my lip as she gave me the weakest of smiles before dropping her gaze down to her mug.

"Father?" Edmund's voice ventured, and as though he had broken some spell, our father seemed to finally rouse, looking up, a look of disappointment in his eyes.

"Ah, Edmund. Peter. Both of you, take a seat." I exchanged a look with my younger brother, who shrugged, and slowly removed his coat, before taking a seat on the nearby sofa. I sighed softly before joining him, catching sight of the darkening look on our father's face as we sat together.

"Father?" I asked, softly, glancing over at her mother, not wanting to let her feel as though she were discluded from the conversation. "Mother? What is this about?"

"Listen to your father, sweetheart," she spoke softly, and I smiled a little at the endearment. We couldn't be in too much trouble, if she were speaking so softly to us. Though at the moment, it felt like we must be, for rarely were we practically summoned here.

"This has to stop." Our father's voice spoke quietly, and I frowned in confusion. Glancing over at me, he shook his head, and stood. "I have to say, I am disappointed. Disgusted. In _both_ of you. I had never expected..." He trailed off, with a sigh. "I suppose, after living in the countryside, I could not have expected less. But still, I hadn't expected it of you two."

"Father, I don't understand," I confessed, glancing over to see my brother looking just as confused as I felt, which was some comfort at least. "Please, what is this about?" Our father raised his head, and glanced at me, then at Edmund, then back at me. I could not suppress a shudder at the cold look in his eyes - such as I had never seen before. It was almost as though - no. I shook that thought away, and sighed softly, waiting for him.

"We have received... A telephone call. From your school." He spoke deliberately, somehow managing to make me feel much more stupid and younger than I truly was. When standing before my father, all thoughts of who I had once been - a King, a Ruler, a Knight, a father of sorts to my siblings. - flew from my mind, and I was just Peter Pevensie, an inexperienced seventeen year old stumbling his way through the world.

"What sort of phonecall?" Edmund spoke up, his voice sounding firmer and more confident than I had expected it to. Our father raised an eyebrow at him, shaking his head.

"A most... Disappointing one."

"Yes, father, we have established that." My brother's voice was now veering near to impatience, and I bit my tongue to stop from cautioning him. Instead, I laid a hand upon his shoulder, catching the dark look on our father's face as I did so. Edmund glanced at me, slightly apologetic, then turned back to our father. "Sorry," he murmured, not sounding at all repentant.

"Apparently, you two were involved in... A ... squabble... With one of your fellow classmates." I winced, suddenly able to see exactly where this was going. I had hoped he'd never find out, but in schools, there were eyes everywhere.

"I wouldn't have called it a squabble as such." Muttered Edmund, and I was half tempted to agree with him.

_Flashback:  
Earlier that day, around midday._

There were a thousand ways to irritate Edmund Pevensie, but cat-callings and jeers were not one of them. The brunette made his way swiftly through the halls of the gym room with his head down, attempting to keep to himself as much as possible. He was half way to his last class of the day, when a sadly all too familiar voice called out, far too happily for Edmund's liking.

_"So, Pevensie, did your brother kiss your wounds and make 'em better after you were done the other night?!" Forcing himself not to react, the brunette stood still for a moment, and took a slow breath. Despite everything, he knew that wholloping Patrick Thomas over the head would not get him anywhere, no matter how tempting it might be. He was almost at the door, when a hand rudely shoved him into the nearest wall, causing the boy to curse slightly. "Watch it, Eddy," _

_Patience gone, the brunette cast caution to the wind, turning to face his attacker with clenched fists. Patrick smirked at him, far too pleased and sure of himself as his friends gathered about them. "No one calls me Eddy." Snapped the brunette. "Least of all someone I dislike as much as you."_

_"See how finely he talks, chaps?!" Patrick grinned, cracking his knuckles with his other hand. "Too finely, if you ask me."_

_"You have a problem with people who talk well?" Edmund retorted. _

_"Yes, especially people like you." _

_"Like me?" The brunette stepped back a little as Patrick moved forward, still grinning._

_"Yes. You and that Nancy brother of yours." The brunette's form stiffened and he glared at the boy, his fingers clenching into fists._

_"Say what you like about me, but leave my brother out of it," he warned fiercely. Patrick laughed, turning briefly to his friends. _

_"See what I mean, boys? Nancies, the both of them!" _

_"It's not natural," Agreed one of the boys, a dark haired mop of a boy called William. Edmund frowned at him, sure that Patrick needed no encouragement from his so-called friends. He glanced back at his sister's beau, who seemed to have a very smug, very dangerous glint in his eye. Taking a slow breath, Edmund took another couple of steps back, wincing as his back hit upon the wall behind him. _

_"I think we need to teach Pevensie a lesson here, don't you, boys?" Patrick grinned a little at the chorus of approval behind him. He cracked his knuckles once again, and started towards the brunette._

_End Flashback._

I shuddered at the still raw memory of what I had walked in on. Edmund, somewhat bloodied and bruised, trying to fight off several chaps, three of them older than him; one of him our sister's beau. In a rare moment, I had seen red, and instead of getting a teacher (which would have ended in nothing but more taunts), I had flown to my brother's defenses, aiming for Patrick even as he hit my brother.

The next few minutes was now a jumble of memory; shouts and curses from Patrick, Edmund shouting my name, me shouting his, Patrick's friends cheering on somewhere in the distance. Thankfully, two of the gym teachers had eventually pulled us apart from each other, otherwise I rather thought things might have ended up far worse than they did. Swallowing, I glanced up at my father, who still wore an expression of disgust and bemusement. A quick look toward my brother showed he had coloured a little about the ears, and he stared defiantly at our father. "They insulted Peter, father! Was I supposed to let that stand?"

"Yes, Edmund. Honestly, whatever it was, it surely did not warrant such conduct from you both!"

"Don't be so certain," muttered my brother, glancing down instead of up at our father, as I had expected him to. Our father gave a frustrated sigh, and stood up.

"Whatever the case, whatever occurred, you two will make amends. Peter, Edmund, you are both to apologise to this boy-"

"I _bloody well will not!"_ The heated explosion next to me made me turn and frown at the look of venom in Edmund's eyes. A quick look towards our father showed his mouth a little open, shock in his very face. I swallowed, standing before a scene erupted, turning to Edmund.

"Ed, perhaps we should, after all-"

"Not after what he said." My brother's words made me realise he had no intention of budging, and I sighed, glancing over at our father once again, to see him still - somewhat suspiciously - was reclining in his seat, looking almost serene.

"Father?"

He looked over at me. "I think, Peter, that you and I should talk privately. Edmund, to bed with you. We will talk in the morning. You WILL apologise to this Patrick boy, and to the Head, for your behaviour - is that understood?" My brother muttered something incomprehensible, but I had no doubt he was fully determined to do anything _but _apologise, and in all honesty, I couldn't blame him. Our father stood, sharply inclining his head towards the door. "Peter."

I sighed softly, glancing over at Edmund and giving him a half-hearted smile of reassurance. "Best do as he says, Ed. Up to bed now." With a grumble, my brother heaved himself off from the sofa, and gave me one hesitant long look before moving toward the door, bidding our mother a good night before disappearing, presumerably to go upstairs.

I took a slow breath, turning to our mother. "I'm sorry for any insult we've caused you, mother," I stated quietly.

Standing up, my mother shook her head, sadly, managing a weak smile. "I've always known you two were close, Peter dear. I never thought there anything wrong in it, but..." she trailed off, sighing. "Maybe you _are_ too close, after all."

"Mother," I swallowed, shaking my head. "Please, don't think like that. Ed and I are only as close as it is natural for siblings to be. We love each other as brothers, but nothing more. How could we?"

"I don't know, dear." She sighed, shrugging. "Your father is waiting for you, Peter. Best go to him."

"Mother..." I started, but she was already out of the door. Feeling more helpless than ever, I took a slow breath, squaring my shoulders and moving toward the door, into the corridor, where my father stood, waiting. "Father, you wished to speak to me."

"Come into the study, Peter." He instructed, barely looking at me, already turning toward said study - which was really just a glorified closet space he and mother had turned into a study some years ago. I shook my head and followed him, praying I could make him understand the madness of whatever it was he and mother feared was happening.

Despite claims to the contrary, I wasn't blind or stupid. I had heard the whispers about Edmund and I; disgusting whispers that should have been put to rest long ago. I had pushed them aside, choosing to take the higher road and ignoring them - after all, anyone with half a brain could surely see that they were unwarranted. The bond I shared with my brother - with all my siblings, but most of all with Edmund - was borne not out of some strange perversion, but a deep sense of protection. I had played father to my siblings throughout our time at the professors', and during Narnia; and after all we had been through, it was only natural I feel protective toward them. I had a feeling though, that my father would never believe me if I had spoken to him of Narnia, so I prayed there was another way to convince him of the truth.

As we entered the study room, he gestured for me to take a seat, clearing his throat as he turned to me.

"Look, Peter, you've done all very well and good whilst I've been away, but I'm home now. This is my house, and my rules stand. I see now I was far too quick to put the weight of this family on your shoulders, but at the time there was little else to be done. Perhaps with some time away, your affections towards your siblings, might become more... Respectable." I gaped at him, barely able to believe my father was saying such things.

"Father! Think about what you are saying? How can you accuse us of those things? How can you accuse Edmund? Me?" I was pleading, but I no longer cared. Pride could fly to the moon; I had been separated enough from my siblings in Narnia due to various reasons, I would not allow my father's irrational fears to do so here, of all places.

"I'm sorry, Peter, but your very reaction confirms everything. Most siblings would happily take some time away from their brother and sisters. You seem to be acting as though I am serving you a sentence." His hand fell to my shoulder, and I swallowed, trying to force myself to calm down. It wouldn't be too long, after all. We would cope, we had done so before. We would do so again. "I think a few months ought to do the trick. You'll see, son. It's all for the best."

I swallowed, trying to force my brain out of the state of shock he had placed it in enough to protest. _A few months?_ Dear Aslan, how would we cope? Did he not see how much we depended upon each other? But I could see my father was steadfast in his decision, and took a swallowed breath, squaring my shoulders, raising my eyes to meet his. "As you say, father." I managed to choke out, and saw a flittering of pride across his face.

"Good man." He clapped me briefly on the shoulder. "Now, go to bed. I should talk to your mother, I'm sure she's worried herself sick over you two. Tomorrow, I'll get the ball rolling."

"Father..." I hesitated. "What about school?"

"Don't worry, Peter. I'll sort all that out." He assured, giving me a slight smile. "Now bed, young man. It is far too late for you to be up." I sighed softly, nodding before moving off upstairs, my brain buzzing, knowing there was no way I would be able to sleep.

I needn't have feared. Upon opening the door, my eyes fell immediately to my brother's bed, where Edmund sat, dressed for sleep, masking the appearance of attempting to read. His eyes flew to mine as soon as the door was shut, and the book was discarded. "Well? What did he say? Are you alright?" He asked, urgently, and I smiled a little, grateful for this overprotective side of my brother.

I nodded a little. "Rest well, Ed. He said nothing terrible..." I hesitated, sighing as I sat down upon my own bed, pulling off my shoes, which had earlier been forgotten, stretching my toes a little to relieve the pins and needles. "There is one thing though..."

"Oh?"

A soft sigh escaped my lips, and I swallowed hard, unwilling to let Edmund see how much the words affected me. "He wants to... Send me away. For a while. He feels we need some time apart apparently." I glanced over at Edmund, to see the lock of unrestrained dismay on his features. Shaking my head, I moved over, sitting next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Buck up, Ed. If I do this maybe he'll lay off. It won't be so bad. We'll write to each other and all that, I promise."

"But why do you need sending away?" Edmund pressed. "What good would it do?"

I sighed softly. "It doesn't matter, Ed. It's best we go along with it, though, for now. Besides, he'll not change his mind."

"But..."

"Please, Ed. Let's just sleep." I requested, suddenly exhausted from everything that had happened. My brother was silent as I moved to change, only speaking near an hour later, when we were both tucked up in our respective beds, the light off.

"I'm not letting this come to pass," He murmured in the darkness, and I smiled sadly, grateful he couldn't see the expression of defeat I knew my face held. Our father was at least twice as stubborn as Edmund could be, and we were, after all, only children here. It wasn't as though we could directly disobey our father, though I was sure that Edmund might try it.

"Night, Edmund." I stated instead, turning on my side, away from him, curling into the bed.

Edmund was silent for a moment, before eventually speaking quietly into the darkness. "Night, Peter."

{I}{I}{I}

**Author's N: **My many thanks to everyone who reviewed the last installment, especially those championing Edmund and Peter. As always, comments and criticisms are muchly appreciated.


	3. Chapter Two: Partings & Promises

**Of Beau's and Etiquette **

**Disclaimer: **The Pevensies, Narnia, and all therein belong to CS Lewis. I promise to give everything back to its proper place once I'm through.

**Summary: **Brothers are still brothers, no matter how the outside world might view them.

{I}{I}{I}{I}{I}

"You cannot be serious, Peter." The door slammed shut behind me and I suppressed a sigh, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose out of frustration, knowing my brother would pick up on it. With a deep breath, I turned to face him, socks in one hand, ready to be packed into the suitcase that sat upon my bed, opened and ready. Edmund, that feisty brother of mine, glared at me from his spot near the door, his arms folded, every inch both the petulant brother _and_ the King he had been in Narnia. His eyes were narrowed, and he stared at me with a kind of desperate incredulity. A feeling of guilt was churning in my stomach, but I tried to ignore it; for really, I had done nothing wrong. I was doing – though my brother would not perhaps see it thus for quite some time – the right thing – the only thing I could do.

"Quite serious, brother," Replied I, turning back to the case. "It is our only option. Either I submit to our father's will, or Aslan only knows what will happen." I had my thoughts, but I wouldn't burden him with them.

"But –"

"Ed, listen." I turned back toward him, swallowing briefly. "Look. Though Aslan has placed us both as His Kings in Narnia, and though we are still those here, we have no real power. I cannot command our father's opinion. We are but children in this world, and we must abide by the rules set within this world, not those of the one we knew." I shook my head. "I am not saying I am happy with the situation – quite the opposite – but we have no choice. I must acquiesce with our father's wishes. We both must." I stepped forward, pressing a hand to my brother's shoulder and pulling him into a brief, one armed hug. "Trust me as you once did, Edmund. I promise you, things will come aright. We have the Lion on our side, after all."

Edmund seemed to do nothing for a moment, and then I felt his shoulders drop a little and he pulled away, meeting my eyes. "But you do _not_ belong where he is sending you." He stated, firmly.

"No indeed." I assured. "But I must play his game, nonetheless. And you must promise to do so also, or else all is in vain." I offered him a smile, though it was weak. "Treat it as one of our Narnian adventures. We've had worse than this before, Ed. Remember the Rixos Clan?" My brother shuddered a little, and his pallor seemed to pale slightly, before he managed a weak smile.

"True… nothing could have been as bad as that sorrowful time," he acknowledged. I smiled at him, before turning back to my suitcase, methodically packing each item as it came into view. I may have spoken optimistic words to my brother, but I was in deep dread of what was to come. I had heard rumours of the place I was to go to – of which Edmund remained blissfully unaware thus far – and I wondered, truly, whether, if I were currently sane, if I would stay such a way. But I had told Edmund that we had faced worse, and that much was true. We could overcome this.

The next day, I woke to a heated argument downstairs. Edmund and our father were speaking in low voices, though the anger in each of them was clear to all. Even as I moved down the stairs, and ran into Susan, the look on her face told me all I needed to know. "Best to leave them to it," she advised me quietly, biting on her lip even as she glanced hesitantly toward the sound of murmurs.

"Bad?" I clarified softly, though I was fairly certain I already knew.

My sister sighed softly, giving a delicate shrug of the shoulders. "You know how protective Ed can be." She eventually clarified, and I nodded, giving her a small smile before watching her disappear up the rest of the stairs and into her and Lucy's room. Hurriedly moving down the rest of the stairs, I caught our father's voice, furious even in its quiet tones, directed at my brother.

"Listen, you little blighter, he is _my son_, and I'll bloody well do what I think is right! I won't have this anymore!"

"He's _my brother_! Nothing more, nothing less! There's nothing wrong with it, and you are _not_ sending him there!" I winced at the raw emotion in Edmund's voice. Being a very private person and generally opposed to any form of fuss, my younger brother had learned from a fairly young age to hide his emotions – therefore often seeming uncaring. Since Narnia, though, such emotions had become more and more obvious; and both I and my siblings had been almost stunned into silence several times when he had attempted to defend us against whatever enemies.

"This conversation is over, Edmund Pevensie. Respect your elders or face the consequences," our father snapped, and I prayed reverently that my brother would back off. Unfortunately, Edmund was known above all for his stubbornness.

"Father, I respect you, but I cannot respect this decision. You _must_ change your mind. You cannot send Peter there! It will destroy him!"

"Why do you care so?!" Our father snapped. "I remember a time when you would do almost anything to get him into trouble! Heaven knows I wish you would return to the boy I once knew."

A deadly silence chilled the air, and I hurried down the rest of the steps, and into the study, to see my brother glaring heatedly at our father, a rare spark in his eyes that chilled me. "Ed." I finally spoke, warningly. I was unsure if he would do anything to physically harm our father – I could not believe it of him – but at that particular moment, he looked ready to kill. He seemed to draw out of his stare at my voice though, and looked around to meet my eyes. I was relieved to see the flame in them die a little, and as he stepped back, clearly more than a little ashamed that I had caught this interact with our father, I moved forward, placing myself somewhat between them. "I am packed, father." I stated quietly.

Our father briskly nodded, and turned to me, essentially ignoring my brother. "Good man. Your taxi will be here in half an hour. Time enough to eat and say what goodbyes you must, I think." I managed a tiny smile, at the gentle tone – so different than that to which he'd spoken to Edmund in – and nodded.

"Yes father… thank you." Our father gave me the tiniest of nods, and then glared over at Edmund.

"You should take heed from your brother, Edmund. He knows not to cross me. You should learn too. Quickly." With that, our father left the room, banging the study door behind him. I glanced over at Edmund, who seemed more than slightly shaken by the implied warning. He turned to me, and I was startled to see the look of guilt on his face.

"I'm sorry… I know I was to back down." He sighed softly, shaking his head. "I don't want you there, Peter. None of us do."

"I know, but we have no other choice." I said softly.

{I}{I}{I}

He was right; there was no choice in the matter. Nonetheless, I did not have to accept it nor like it. The idea of my brother going off into one of those places that were almost always talked about only in low whispers was appalling, and undeserving. In Narnia, I would have summoned an entire army to guard him and keep him from such a place – here, not even my pen would make the slightest difference. I was a child, a mere child out of a thousand; and I could do nothing. That evening, I rode with my brother in the hired car as far as the train station. Most of the journey was spent in silence – Peter stared at the back of the driver's head, whilst I stared out of the window. Neither of us could figure out what to say, but I had not wanted Peter to go alone. Susan and Lucy had said their goodbyes and promises to write back home; and I was only grateful that my parents had conceded to allow me to ride with him as far as the station. As we reached the station, he turned to me, his eyes serious. "Listen to me, Ed. I want you to promise to be careful. Don't put yourself in the line of fire, alright? Don't let father provoke you, and don't let yourself be goaded."

I sighed softly, turning to him. "In answer, brother, I must ask a favour of my own. Know your own mind, and do not let others cause you to doubt yourself. You know who you are, who you were, who you were chosen to be. Do not let those memories fade. Remember that – for now, for always – you were and always will be Peter Pevensie, High King of Narnia." My brother gave a sad sort of smile, and inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"I promise so to do," he assured softly, gently clasping my shoulder. I returned the gesture, repeating the words back to him before releasing my grip and taking his case, even as he attempted to protest, sliding out of the cab with the greatest of reluctance. Peter was unusually silent as we gathered his things between us and collected and paid for his ticket; and for a moment I was struck with a similar memory of four drab and scared children sent off to the country. Sadly, I could not imagine my brother's destination was to be anywhere as wonderful as ours that time had become – but I feared that he would become changed by it, nonetheless.

As the train rolled in, and passengers began to step onto the engine, he turned to me, his eyes serious. "Look after the girls. Look after yourself. I'll write as oft as I can." He said softly, before pulling me to him, in a tight hug.

I sighed softly, hugging him back, able to feel the slight tremor that ran through his body. No matter what he might say to the contrary, my brother was scared, and I realised now that we had never truly discussed where he was going and what effect it might have on him. Perhaps it had been for the best; for Peter only would have worried himself more over it and quite possibly made himself ill in the process. Sadly, he had a tendency to do so quite often. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I cleared my voice and replied in a tone stronger than I felt. "Look after yourself, Pete. Be strong, and write to us. Otherwise you'll have Susan to answer to," the joke was weak, but Peter chuckled a little nonetheless. A quick pat to the back, and the hug was released as the whistle blew. I stepped forward, watching Peter slowly climb onto the train, handing him the last of his bags as he moved through, before stepping away again, stuffing my hands into my coat pocket as my brother's face appeared once again in a carriage window, pale and unsure. Giving him a reassuring smile, I could only pray that he would return to us safely and sane, even as the train chugged into life and began to move off into the distance.

**{I}{I}{I}{I}{I}**

**Author's N: **My apologies, dear readers, for the lacklustre quality of this chapter. I can only beg your indulgences and assure you the next chapter will be better. As always, comments and criticisms are much welcomed and appreciated. I hope you all had a very Merry Christmastide, and I wish you all a very Happy New Year.


	4. Chapter Three: A New Abode

**Of Beau's and Etiquette **

**Disclaimer: **The Pevensies, Narnia, and all therein belong to CS Lewis. I promise to give everything back once I'm through.

**Summary: **Brothers are still brothers, no matter how the outside world may view them.

**{I}{I}{I}{I}{I}**

Dear Lucy, Susan, and Edmund.

Firstly: my deepest apologies for not being able to write to you sooner than I have. I had intended to write to you upon my arrival here, but alas it seemed my keeper was rather prepared for that. Upon arriving, all manner of pen and paper were taken from my person, whilst I was told firmly but politely that no communication with the "outside" was allowed for two weeks. With the two weeks now finally up, I find myself once again able to write to you all.

I suppose the first matter I should start with is the question of where I am. Though I am not allowed to tell you exactly – and there is a gentleman here who seems quite prepared to make sure that such a thing doesn't happen… a chaperone of the word, I would call him - be reassured in the knowledge that I am nowhere truly terrible, and that there are far worse places that I could be. It seems I have taken the attentions of a friend of our father's – an old psychology professor who feels it is his right and duty to… repress certain finer points of the human character. There are six of us here in his House; three other boys and two girls, who all very much keep to themselves, under strict orders, so I gather, of this professor. I'll not lie; it is lonely here, and I find myself missing each of your company. Time seems to pass ridiculously slowly, despite there being an impressive library and much to do if one likes exploring. Alas, books and exploring cannot make up for the absence of one's siblings.

Now, onto more serious matters; I must caution each of you not to irk our father in any way. He has proven that he will stand to his word if provoked, and I would not wish to see our family more separated than it is now. Work together and appease him as much as you can, and please, try not to cause quarrel or discord. Edmund; no championing my case whilst I am away; the best way to deal with this is to surrender fully and completely. I fear any resistance could only lead to further banishment. For now the matter is contained enough to be managed; I beg you each not to worsen it by deed or manner.

Take care, be safe, and remember yourselves.  
Your brother Peter

I sighed softly as I signed the letter, studying it briefly before blotting it, satisfied it told them as much as I was able to without worrying them or causing upset. Looking about the tiny room I called my lodgings, I shook my head, finding myself wishing for the comforts of home. Our home in Finchley may not have been grand, or even luxurious; but it was still _home_; the place that held so much history for each of us – the place I had been born, where I had watched my siblings being born, and helped to raise them as much as I was able. And oh, how I missed it.

I had not lied in my letter when I had spoken of the gentleman that currently stood watch by the door; supposedly checking that I did not write anything seemingly inappropriate in my letter… but I had not been completely honest, either. I knew if I told my siblings that I was kept watch on for most of the day (as were the other residents here), then Lucy and Edmund, at least, would quite possibly attempt something stupid to try and get me home. At least I could count on Susan – or so I hoped – to appeal to their logicalities.

Turning to the man, I managed a slight smile, and handed him my letter, somewhat reluctantly. He raised an eyebrow at me before almost snatching it from my fingers, scanning through it briefly, one eyebrow raised slightly as he did. "Your writing is too neat." He snapped, and I frowned, confused.

"Too neat?"

"Yes. For a boy your age, it is far too neat." He glared at me, suspiciously, as if a boy having neat writing was somehow against the law and needed rectifying immediately. I gave him a slight smile, hoping to win him over eventually (though I had no luck yet), and shrugged a little.

"I prefer my writing to be eligible, sir." I explained. "How are my siblings to read it if it is mindless scribbling? How are you to do your job of checking it if it is thus, either?"

"Hmmm… well." He seemed at a bit of a loss, and frowned deeply at me as though it were somehow my fault. "It's suspicious. I don't like it." With that, the man folded the letter with precision, and glared at me. "I shall make sure it is posted." I nodded, smiling a little. I didn't' want to entrust my letter to this strange and cold man, but I supposed I had no choice. I would just have to trust that was delivered.

"Thank you, sir. That is most kind of you." I said, honestly, and the man seemed to frown more deeply, before he mumbled something unintelligible, and stomped to the door, throwing it open before turning to me, his eyes narrowed as he viewed me.

"I am watching you, Pevensie." Warned he, before slipping out of the room and shutting the door quietly - but firmly - behind him. I sighed, shaking my head a little and moving over to my bed, sinking down into a sitting position upon it, raising a hand to massage my temple, which had begun a dull throbbing.

Thinking, I supposed I was rather lucky. Though my current situation seemed bleak, it could have been much worse, and father had threatened as much. I could have been sent to an institution – Aslan forbid – or a disciplinary school. I had heard horror stories from such places, and knew a boy who had gone there perfectly normal – abet slightly inclined toward breaking rules – and returned with a nervous disposition and stammer. I had kept my fears from my siblings in the hopes that my father would show mercy, and I was grateful he had done. I had not yet seen much of my fellow citizens here, but I hoped to make their acquaintances despite the firm telling off I had first been given upon entering when I had attempted to greet one of them.

_Flashback:_

_The boy stared at me in frank surprise, his eyes looking me over before turning to the gaze of his mentor – a stern old lady that rather reminded me of Mrs Macready, only sterner. The smile on my face became more hesitant; and dropped a bit as I retracted my hand from where I had offered it in a handshake. "Um…"_

"_We do not talk, boy. You'd do well to learn that." My new keeper hissed in my ear, his grip on my shoulder causing a spark of pain against my shoulder-blades. I took a slow breath, lowering my gaze, and nodding, silently confused but not willing to get into trouble._

"_Sorry sir."_

"_Forward, boy." He ordered, and I began to walk, glancing back to see the boy still staring at me with a hint of confusion in eyes that reminded me far too much of my brother. I gave him a slight smile that soon turned into a frown and wince as the back of a hand quickly smacked against my head. "No talking."_

"_I-" I sighed, cutting off my retort, and falling silent. "Yes sir."_

"_Keep walking, boy."_

_End flashback_

I shook my head at the memory. At the time, such coldness and desolate behaviour had confused me no end; especially having lived most of my life in happiness and among people only too happy to talk away. It had been a strange transition, and I had to admit that I missed my siblings deeply. But we had been separated before, and for longer than I was sure I would be here. We would get through this, and perhaps become stronger.

Thinking back, perhaps my father was right, after all. Not that there was anything unruly in my relationship with my brother – neither of us would ever dream of such a thing. But in England, brothers could not be seen to be as close as we were. We could already see the damage that had caused, and perhaps my coming here was a warning and a blessing both – I was lucky my father had not taken more extreme actions, and I hoped Edmund would realise the same.

**Author's N: **Apologies for the short chapter, dear readers. As always, my many thanks to those who have taken the time to both read and review; and as always, any comments or criticisms are very much appreciated.


	5. Chapter Four: Professors & Protestations

**Of Beau's and Etiquette**

**Disclaimer: **The Pevensies, Narnia, and all therein belong to CS Lewis. I promise to return them once I'm done.

**Summary: **Brothers will still be brothers, no matter how the outside world may view them…

{I}{I}{I}{I}

"Mr Pevensie. Pwease, sit down." I swallowed nervously from where I stood in the doorway, every fibre in my being unwilling to go along with this, despite my assurances to my brother that I had to, that we had to. "Pwease, Mr Pevensie. Do not be afwaid." The man did not turn as he spoke, but I shuddered nonetheless, before taking a slow breath, trying to command some amount of courage as I stepped forward and into his line of sight, before sitting down opposite him, taking the opportunity to study the man as he seemed to be studying me.

Appearing as a man just over his sixties, he was a thin-lipped fellow with a tightly drawn mouth, slightly wrinkled skin and steely grey eyes. Even as those eyes cast their gaze over me, I could feel them calculating, deducting. There was intelligence therein, to be sure, but something else also; something I could not understand and wasn't sure I wanted to. His hands were folded against his chin, elbows resting upon the darkened wood of his desk. His hair was of a greying nature; shortly cropped and giving his features a sterner look than they might otherwise have had; something I was beginning to think may have been purposely done. I shifted a little on my seat before dropping my gaze, swallowing hard. "You asked to see me, Sir."

"How vwery like your mother you are, Mr Pevensie." He stated, ignoring my words completely, shocking me enough to make me look up at him again with a frown.

"Sir? You… knew my mother?"

"Of course. I tweated her a long time ago." The man smiled a little in reminisce, and I felt something curdle unpleasantly in my stomach. "One of my fwinest cases." I shook my head, storing that bit of information away for later, before focusing my attentions on this strange man once more. The broad accent with which he spoke was unplaceable – not quite Northern enough to render him from these parts, though that may have been due to the slight lisp that curbed every few words.

"Forgive me, sir, but I do not believe you have brought me here to talk about my mother." I said softly, and he raised an eyebrow, a slow smile that held no warmth spreading across his face, as he leaned forward slightly in his seat.

"No indeed." He agreed softly. "We have met, Mr Pwevensie, to talk about your… affliction."

"Affliction, sir?" I struggled to keep my voice sounding pleasant, not wanting to displease him – and in turn displease my father. After all, my getting out of here surely relied on me being able to prove my sanity to any who questioned it. The fact that I was rather beginning to question my own sanity was something to be regarded for later. "Forgive me, sir, but I am afraid that your time has been wasted. I suffer no infliction."

"Indeed." The man seemed to smile even more, and I sighed softly. "Your fwather would say otherwise, Mr Pwevensie." He regarded me for a moment, before settling back into his seat, looking rather at home. "Do you know why your fwather is worried?"

"Do you?" I asked in reply. The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unpleased with my answer.

"You will not help yourself, Mr Pwevensie, by pwetending to act smart. All you will accompwish is further tweatment." I took a slow breath, bowing my head slightly, recognising his words. He was right – if I did not play his game, as I had already told Edmund and our sisters I must, then who knew how long I might be here? Aslan forbid, our father might decide to send one of my siblings somewhere – and that would most certainly be more than I would be able to bear.

"My apologies, sir."

"Bwetter." He studied me for a moment. "Your fwather is worried, Mr Pwevensie, because of your… unusual relationship with your bwother." He paused. "Are you aware of any pwoblems he might be refwerring to?" I sighed softly, shuffling a little in my seat. Yes, I was very aware of what my father had been speaking of, but surely admitting to such would act as though I were admitting to a crime of some sort. There had been no crime – purely a difference in opinions that had led to this ridiculous idea of my father's that I needed sending away. I suddenly had an almost amusing image of my brother sitting in my place, battling out his theories with this solemn man.

"I am aware that my father is worried, sir." I replied, choosing a diplomatic answer rather than challenging him outright.

"Do you agwee with his judgement?" The man's eyes seemed rooted to mine, and I found I could not look away. I swallowed hard, finding myself desperately wishing for some air. _Come, Peter! You've faced worse than this_. Edmund's voice sounded in my head and I sighed; he was right. I had faced much worse than this, we both had. But the fact was, I had been an adult then in his own Kingdom, not a teenager with the weight of propriety and assumption against him. I had to be careful, I had to be cautious.

"I understand that he feels there is something that needs to be addressed," I replied quietly, eventually managing to tear my eyes from his, lowering them to the table instead, and trying to summon some amount of small courage.

"Mr Pwevensie… we are not gwaining any gwound here. Either you swurrender to your tweatment, or there is little else to do."

I rose my head, to meet his eyes. "I am sorry sir. I do not intend any disrespect, but please be aware there is nothing wrong with me. I have a bond with each of my siblings, and this is the problem that my father has sent me here to correct. Yet I admit to being confused – surely being close to one's brother and sisters is nothing but an honour? If my father has sent me here to rid me of this bond, then I can assure you, that nothing will change it."

The old man frowned at me, and then sat back in his seat, letting out a low pitched hum, his eyes narrowing slightly. I shifted a little, regretting my words already, but knowing them to be true. Admittedly, perhaps Edmund and I sometimes forgot we were in Narnia and not England, and thus forgot not to show affection the way we had in Narnia, but our father's concerns were ridiculous and quite absurd. I took a slow breath. "Please, sir-"

"Qwuiet." The professor snapped, glaring at me. "I am thinking." I bowed my head, simply hoping that eventually he would dismiss me, knowing there was nothing I could say to undo what presumptions he had obviously made about me.

Ten minutes later, I had almost fallen asleep in the chair, when the professor spoke, his voice quietly firm. "I thwink, Mr Pwevensie, I have the rwemedy for you." I looked up, trying to swallow the nerves in my stomach, not liking the slight twinkle in his eyes. "A month away fwom your swiblings is in owder… and a course of medicine. Then we shall see, Mr Pwevensie."

I bit my lip, not liking the sound of this at all, though in all honestly a month was much less than I had expected to stay here for. "May I ask what the medicine is, sir?"

"You may ask," he said with a smile. "But I will not answer. It is twime, Mr Pwevensie, for you to accept the words of your elders, without qwuestion." I nodded respectfully, knowing I had already pushed my luck.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry sir."

"Vwery good. You may go now." I rose, relieved, from my chair, and stepped cautiously towards the door, able to feel the professor's gaze upon me even as I opened the door. He seemed to be waiting for something, so I turned back towards him, hesitantly.

"Sir?"

"Go, Mr Pwevensie. We shall reconvwiene this in a short while." He assured me, though for some reason his words sounded more like a threat than anything else. I managed a weak nod, and hastily disappeared through the doorway and into the corridor, shutting his door behind me and letting out a soft relief of breath as I sagged against the wall, grateful at least that was over – for now.

{I}{I}{I}

I sighed softly as I read through the letter, and glanced over at Lucy, who sat with a small frown upon her face, her hands clasped in her lap. "I don't like it," she murmured unhappily. "He sounds so sad and serious."

I shrugged a little, flicking one irritating lock of hair back behind my ear, folding the letter up again with the other hand. "He has every right to sound so, Lu. If he and Edmund had behaved themselves, he wouldn't be there now. I fear he's beginning to realise this." I paused, looking at her. "Lu, you do realise why Peter is there, don't you?"

"I know why father believes it is right for him to go there," she said quietly. "But that does not mean I understand. They are just brothers. There is nothing untold in their relationship – they are the same as any brothers or siblings who have been through all that we have." I stared at her; at times, my sister completely baffled me. Of course, going to the Professors' had been a strange time for us all, and the man himself had always unnerved me, but it had hardly been horrible. And yet Lucy, and Peter and Edmund, were talking as though we had been through something so much greater. I shook my head, dismissing the thought for now to ponder upon later.

"I don't think we should tell Edmund about this letter," I decided softly, and Lucy's frown only intensified, even as I hurried to explain. "What good would it do, Lucy? He'd only get angry or upset and then cause trouble with father, and trouble is exactly what we do _not_ need right now, especially with Peter gone. No, it's best Ed doesn't find out about this letter, and hopefully his temper will settle a little." I stood, moving over to livingroom fire, which was well kindled from our brother's earlier efforts, and hastily fed the letter to the flames, watching as it burned.

"I don't like lying to him," Lucy stated quietly from her seat, and I turned to face her, pushing back a quiver of irritation. Lucy was entitled to her own opinion, but she was only a child after all, and could never understand how serious all this truly was.

"Me neither, Lu." I assured her softly. "But for Peter's sake, it must be done." My sister sighed, shaking her head at me as she gently slid from her seat, staring at me with a kind of intensity that had me raising an eyebrow.

"I don't like it." She said flatly. "But for Peter and for Edmund I'll go along with it… for now." She paused a little. "I wish we'd never left Narnia," she confessed, her voice laced with the threat of tears suddenly, and she shook her head, before flying from the room. I frowned after her, completely perplexed by this strange behaviour from my youngest sibling. I shook my head and turned back to the fire, sitting down heavily in a seat, and cursing Professor Kirke and his housekeeper for all the strangeness they seemed to have injected into us. As my eyes began to lower into a slumber, I found myself turning over Lucy's words over and over again. _Narnia_. What a strange and wonderful word, but with no true meaning that I could work out. Perhaps it was another of her games…

With that, I fell asleep, and if I had been paying closer attention, I might have heard the low echo of a roar of the Lion somewhere in the distance…

{I}{I}{I}{I}

**Author's N: ***scuffles awkwardly*. So… what did you all think? As always, dear readers, your thoughts and comments are much appreciated, and many thanks to each and every one of you who has read and reviewed thus far.


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